The Black Plague Is Back By Popular Demand

Existence is redundant, it's a comatosed static
An endless night tapping keys
You know what I mean…
We hold hands; go to church
Whisper in the back row
Do you wanna go to your grave wondering?
What it's like to clash teeth
Rubber on skin, is sex, without the mess
An Asian girl, once asked me my blood type?
I don't know for sure, but I think I'm B
Regardless, my ideals got tangled, in her hair
And it's time for me to get emotronic
Zombie movies got me to thinking
Even the living dead, have there share of problems
There's a lucky penny on the bathroom floor
But nobody dare pick it up…
Disappointment is my common law
We've been together twenty-one years now
It's a burden to breath
Bubble wrap fetish got the best of me (bang bang your dead)
1985 was a bad year for style
I prayed for the cure, but I got a flock of seagulls
Follow suite, go to the beach
Bury your head in the sand
La la la said the little boy
With his fingers in his ears.

Written By Vincent White